March 11, 2018

One way or another...

Noah cut this video of the transfer and posted it on the One More Shot page, but I thought I'd share it here as well:

It kind of made me teary watching--might have been the music he chose or the hormones I'm on, but I also think there's two parts anxiety about tomorrow's beta test and three parts nostalgia for what tomorrow means. Whatever happens it is, in a way, the culmination of 8 very long and complicated years of our lives. It could be the beginning of a journey to the child that will complete our family of four, or the end of our journey that we are so grateful has given us our firecracker of a daughter. One way or another, tomorrow we will know.

Looking back at all of it-- the first doctors appointment in LA to the trip back to Seattle for the second of the donated embryos, it's amazing for me to think about all that has happened and how much infertility has changed my life. For the good and bad. Noah and I always try to make lemonade out of lemons, but the years of intense assisted baby-making has it's scars and sour patches. I regret nothing (well maybe a few of the IUIs, those felt kind of pointless, though not at the time) and hindsight is 20/20. Everything that didn't work led us to Momo and perhaps to her sibling. It led us to Seattle, Noah's hometown, and to an incredible doctor who made the whole process almost seem fun. It led us to our film and to a community of incredible people who have each others backs in a way not many communities do. While I lost some friends along the way, I also gained some, and I value those friendships so much.

So whatever happens tomorrow it will be ok. I will be ok (I think)...no actually I know. Because some how I always eventually am. Maybe not right away, but with time and space and confidence that what might not make any sense to me today (or tomorrow) will one day either make sense or just be ok.

Send you so, so, so much luck. So much of this insane process just comes down to luck, and it's so hard to accept how little control we truly have. But I'm hopeful for you and your family and really, really hoping for the best.

Our little mystery man (our first, a donor embryo boy -- but really all kids are mysteries) is due in two weeks, and we are so eager to meet him. Like every new child, a stranger who will soon be the most important person in our lives! Trying not to think too much yet about Child Number Two down the road, but I can't help but spin out scenarios already. But some day we can really put all this behind us and just be a "normal family" in whatever shape it takes.